


A summer of orange blossom

by irene_yongie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comedy, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Italy, M/M, Rich Mark Lee (NCT), Strangers to Lovers, johnny sexy, little gay mark, minor taeten, nohyuck if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irene_yongie/pseuds/irene_yongie
Summary: In a little castle lost in  Italy's mountains, summers for Mark are long, boring and lethargic. At least until his mother hires a way too hot landscaper to redesign the garden.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 16
Kudos: 145





	A summer of orange blossom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [romulus_adhara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/romulus_adhara/gifts).



> sooo,,,, hi :D
> 
> i really really loved writing this fic and i hold it dearly to my heart, first because i wrote it for my star and my love alex (it's her birthday, go congratulate her), second because it's my first completed and posted johnmark! i was dying to write about them and now that it's done i couldn't be happier. 
> 
> i hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as i loved writing it. i had tons of fun.

If you’d ask what summer is like to Mark, he’d answer in a heartbeat that it smells like orange blossom and shines with golden light.

Summers for Mark Lee are spending his mornings reading in the garden, surrounded with orange trees with its branches swaying lazily moved by the hot wind, loaded with round heavy fruits, sleeping through the scorching afternoons in his silky bed, having dinner with his mom on the terrace in the evenings, and do some more reading in the garden his book lighted by the moonlight and a candle during the night.

There’s nothing more to do in a small village lost in the middle of the Italian mountains, and it’s not like Mark enjoys joining the old men in the local pub. Sure, parties are organized from time to time where the rare teenagers can meet to drink and smoke hidden from their parents, but he’s always found them boring – the parties, and the teenagers. Though he has to admit he likes to eat sometimes at the local restaurant and always passes by the library, respectively held by the adorable Taeyong and Ten. 

His routine is painfully repetitive and honestly suffocating with lethargy sometimes, but it’s also comforting, getting enraptured with books he knows by heart, going back to his own worlds, coming up from time to time to enjoy the peaceful oneirism of the garden.

Really, why would he leave these orange and lemons trees and their fruits with the juicy and delicious pulp he knows so well – the Valencia, the Sanguinelli, the Scarlet Navel, the Lisbon lemon, the Primofiori Lemon and the Dream Navel – the delicious scent of citrus fruits intoxicating the air, the sunlight stroking his skin, the immaculate and timeless statues guarding him in his realm, the graceful flowers of which vibrant colors are buried behind the overbearing green of the bushes?

Summers are long, but they’re a much-needed break from the storm his life in San Francisco is, and it’s the only time in the year he can see his ever busy, ever booked and ridiculously loaded mom. She’s only home in the evenings, talking to her son about her day, her soothing voice tainted by a heavy but charming Italian accent, and taking great pride and delight in her garden she hires numerous people to maintain its beauty.

Mark meets them in the mornings, they’re nice people and he’s mostly learned Italian from them rather than with his mother. Usually, they’re almost done with their work when Mark comes out of the kitchen after having breakfast and when they’re not too busy they chat for a bit before he dives into his book for the day. They’re only back in the evenings, when Mark and his mom are having dinner. Watching them work from the terrace like they’re some sort of feudal lords makes Mark super uncomfortable while his mom doesn’t seem to care, pouring them another glass of red wine. He loves her, but she’s always been a little too condescending.

There’s nothing unpredictable about his summers, for six or seven years they’ve all been the same, that’s why he doesn’t bat an eyelid when his mom tells him she’s hired a new manager specialist gardener or something like that because she wants to include new and rare varieties of orange trees in the garden. Mark will have to show them around while she’s working, introduce him to the team and explain to him what his mom expects from him. Knowing how much his memory’s shit, she gave Mark a note summing up all the points.

He also has to get a bedroom ready, it’s a demanding long-term project and the new gardener will stay with them for the rest of the summer, like some others already do. They have their own aisle of the castle with their kitchen and their bathrooms, granting Mark all the calm and personal space he needs. 

Mark yawns, closes his book and takes one last look at the garden, even if he can’t see much of it in the darkness. He wishes the new gardener won’t be too old and won’t have too many out-dated ideas. He likes the garden as it is and the thought of it changing and him being caught up in the middle of renovation work annoys him, he hopes it’ll be for the best and that next summer the garden will be more enchanting than it ever was.

///

He’s still sipping on his homemade frappucino when the bell startles the fuck out of him. He snatches the notepad his mom left him and coughs on his way to the portal, hurrying because, fuck, he’s stared into the distance for way longer than he thought. He probably looks like shit, feeling his eyelids puffed by the lack of sleep. Not that he cares to look good for an old gardener, but he’d like to feel more awake before talking about plants and renovations. 

The metal already heated by the sun burns his palm a little when he lays his hand on the handle. He opens the entrance gate, ready to greet the new employee with a smile and apologies for leaving him waiting.

His smile dies on his lips and the apologies he’d prepared in his head turn into a weird choking sound. 

“Hello. I believe I’m your new gardener.” The man in front of him greets with a polite grin.

Fuck.

Okay. Maybe Mark actually does care about his looks.

The man is all elegance and charisma, his white shirt hugs his chest, not too tight but enough to let guess fit muscles under, his tailored pants go down on expensive leather shoes and his black hair is neatly styled. Too handsome for his own — or Mark’s — good, he looks more of a businessman rather than a simple gardener and suddenly, Mark feels very self-conscious in his loose tee-shirt.

“Hi! Yes, welcome!” He automatically extends his hand and the gardener shakes it. It’s not sweaty, Mark notes with relief.

“I’m Mr. Johnny Seo, but you can simply call me Johnny.”

“Well I’m Mark! Come on in.” He lets go of Johnny’s hand to open the portal wider. Johnny’s tall, and Mark moves aside to let him get into the garden. 

“I must say this is a gorgeous place,” Johnny admires.

“I think so too, yeah. I really love it.” Mark answers and walks ahead of Johnny who follows him promptly. “So, my mom wants me to show you around and discuss with you at the same time what she wants to change and improve. I’ll take some notes of your remarks and interrogations and you’ll meet her in the evening.”

“That sounds perfect,” Johnny muses distractedly, his eyes not leaving the different plants.

They walk around together, Mark telling him everything about the different parts of the garden, the rambling roses, where his mom wants to install a vegetable garden, the little river where she wants to implant water lilies and other plants to clean the water, the different statues that needs to be cleaned and maybe relocated, the tiny labyrinth of bushes and of course, the citrus fruits trees outside and the orangery in the glasshouse.

Johnny asks a lot of questions, some Mark can answer — mostly about the orange and lemons because he’s been in love with it since he first set foot here — and some others he can’t, like if his mom would prefer only perennial plants or what type of soil the garden is mostly made of.

When Mark introduces Johnny to the gardening crew, he observes with horror that Johnny seems to be a great leader, friendly but firm and professional. It’s not going to be easy spending two months with a greek god. Johnny tells them he’ll have to have a talk with Mrs. Lee first but still brushes them the big picture of what he has in mind, glancing at Mark seeking for his opinion. It takes a lot of willpower not to avert his eyes from Johnny’s and give him tight nods, but he still manages. He’s not really registering what Johnny’s saying anyway, the man could be talking about razing the garden, Mark would just be able to smile and nod, simply smile and nod.

Leading Johnny into the castle, Mark couldn’t feel more awkward. The castle is way too imposing and too beautiful for only his mother and him to live in. It should be the property for the state or something, not hoarded by a single woman. Not wanting to seem like an arrogant rich kid, Mark tries to stay simple, but in his nervousness he only ends up blabbering and getting confused in his own explanations.

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind Mark’s confusion, a smile floating on his lips, ingenuous. Something tells that if Mark wasn’t the son of his employer, Johnny would be teasing him. It doesn’t help him calm his nerves _at all_.

He shows Johnny the bedroom he’d prepared for him, tells him to make himself comfortable and that if he’ll need help or has any questions, Mark will most probably be in the garden or in his own aisle of the castle and that he can bother him at any time. He kinda regrets saying that as he realizes he just jeopardized his afternoon naps, or at least today’s. Johnny reassures that for now, he’s been provided all the information he needs and that he won’t bother Mark any longer by spending the rest of the day exploring the surrounding areas — and its fauna and flora. 

///

When the evening comes around, Mark emerges from his afternoon lethargy by pouring himself a lemonade. He fits at the kitchen’s table, his eyes lazily trailing off the bubbly back and forths of his mother, scattering things in the castle and anecdotes about her day at work. He replies with appreciative hums and peppers some questions. 

She asks about the gardener. Mark tells her he’s left to visit the town earlier in the afternoon and that he’ll be back by seven.

“Perfect,” she sighs, plopping down on a chair. “What are we having for dinner tonight?”

“I told Maria you’d probably want to welcome Mr. Seo with good Italian food.”

“You’re right.” His mother smiles.

“So she’s going with cannellonis.”

“Oh great! God I love that woman.” She throws her head back and rubs her temple.“Mark, angel, can you get me a big glass of fresh sparkling water with lime? Don’t be tighton the lime.”

“Sure, coming right up.”

///

Dinner is… awkward. Well, at least it seems to be only for Mark, since his mother and Johnny are deeply absorbed in a conversation about roses and how to cultivate them the best. Johnny knows what he’s talking about and fills his employer with a lot of knowledge and tips she looks like she appreciates, having pulled out her phone to take notes.

Mark doesn’t really know how to place himself so he eats the delicious food the cook made for them and pretends like he’s comfortable with having dinner with the most charismatic and handsome man he’s ever met… and his mother just right next to him. 

But the way that even while discussing with his employer, Johnny still steals glances from Mark, isn’t making things easier. If anything, it’s making Mark’s cheek flush with red, a blush he tries to justify by sipping red wine, and averting his eyes from Johnny at all costs.

“Well, Mr. Seo, from what you’re saying we can conclude it’s all about the soil. Do you think our soil is suitable for such delicate plants to blossom?”

“From what your gardeners told me, I believe it could be very interesting to implement a certain type of white roses from Spain I have in mind. I need to run some tests with samples but they could grow luxuriously.”

“Luxuriously… I like that. Mark, you answered every of Mr. Seo’s questions right?”

Interrupted as he was shoving a huge chunk of food in his mouth, he starts chewing frantically to answer his mother. The silence is overbearing but Johnny intently looking at him, waiting for him, is worse. Embarrassment and nerves take over him, turning him red like a tomato.

“I tried my best.” He says, putting his hand in front of his mouth, feeling so gross in front of his classy mother and gardener. “But I don’t think I’ve really helped Mr. Seo.”

His mother laughs at the joke she hasn’t even made yet. “That’s a shame considering the amount of time you spend outside.” Johnny chuckles tactfully. Yeah it wasn’t that great, Mark is used to it anyway.

“No need for such modesty,” Johnny contradicts sofly, “you’ve been more than helpful, _Sir_.”

Mark chokes on the cannelloni.

If he was red he’s now crimson, wheezing and coughing loudly as he hits his chest to get air passing through his constricted throat. Maybe it’s because of the way Johnny’s gaze was laid on him, giving him all the attention in the world, maybe it’s the silkyness of his voice, or maybe it’s the fact that he fucking outright called him ‘sir’, but either way, Mark is shamefully losing his mind over it.

His coughs get louder and if Johnny politely pours water in his glass before handing it to him. Mark doesn’t miss, between his tears, the glint in Johnny’s eyes. 

“Mark.” He croaks after he manages to catch a break and take a breath. “Just Mark. Mark is good.”

“Oh please, you’ll have to let people call you by something else other than your name at some point.” His mother scolds but without strength. 

“Nope. No. Only Mark is perfect. Yeah.”

He affords one glimpse to Johnny. This one hasn’t looked away from him, leaned back in his chair.

“As you want, _Mark_.” This one is very glad he’s not drinking or eating anything, because he would have probably choked again for the way his name rolled on Johnny’s tongue. “But then you have to call me Johnny. I insist.”

“Fine. Fine, very fine. Just Mark and just Johnny.”

Johnny raises his glass of wine to that, saluting their new agreement, before drinking its last gulps, exposing his neck for Mark to admire. 

Mark swallows thickly. Summer is going to be long.

///

The next few days are bearable. Johnny works all day long, only granting his attention to plants, plans and gardeners, and Mark dives head first into reading. Sure, when Johnny walks in front of him, he gets distracted, but Johnny does a great job at keeping himself busy and out of Mark’s sight, running left and right to organize the works. He doesn’t even know when the man lunches, or if he even eats at the castle.

Though he finds out that, if he doesn’t avert his eyes from his food, dinners can turn a whole lot less hellish, and even pleasant. Johnny, graceful and clever, makes himself a great company and is loved by Mark’s mother. Mark even started to suspect his mother was developing a crush on him when she mentioned subtly not so subtly how impressive it is for Johnny to have such a prestigious job when he’s so young. 

“I wouldn’t say twenty seven is that young.” He brushed off with a charming smile. “And it’s not that impressive, I’ve been both very lucky and offered many opportunities.”

“I’m sure you’re undermining yourself.” She said, placing a hand on Johnny’s wrist. A surprised amusement drew on his face. The touch only lasted a second before she got more wine, carefree.

This time, Mark didn’t choke, but had to repress a wild laugh, pressing his lips tight together. _Unbelievable._ As he calmed down, he committed one mistake. He looked up, and his eyes met Johnny’s knowing smirk. A muffled giggle escaped from him that he concealed by coughing. 

Absorbed in whatever she was saying, his mother didn’t notice her son’s turmoil and how Johnny’s grin had widened.

///

One day, Johnny seems way less busy. Mark’s already noticed him pacing in the garden a few times, at a pace he could qualify as leisurely. It’s almost noon, the story he’s reading is hitting a bad patch and Mark’s stomach is growling. He has an idea.

Closing his book, calming his nerves and gathering his courage, he walks up to Johnny. Jonny spins his head so quickly when Mark calls out his name it gives this one a whiplash.

“Have you eaten yet?” Mark asks when he’s joined him, a bit breathless even though he’s only gone down some stairs and crossed a few meters. He should try to exercise more. 

“No, not yet. You?”

“Me neither. Wanna grab something together?”

“Sure!” The smile lighting his face warms Mark like the heat of summer. “Can I join you in ten minutes? I have some matters to handle but I'll be quick.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Mark rushes to the kitchen, hoping Maria could make something quickly for them, like a salad, only to find out a meal is already in the oven. Bless this woman. He paces back and forth until he snaps out of his nerves and decides to set the table on the terrace and to continue to read his book until Johnny joins him.

This one takes a seat next to him fast enough that Mark’s brain doesn’t have the time to go overdrive by overthinking his bold move on Johnny. He smiles at him, and, he doesn't know how, but they start talking as Maria brings them some food and wine.

And lunch is… strangely comfortable. Without the attention-seeker ass of Mark’s mother in the way, the conversation between him and Johnny is easy. Mark finds out that Johnny is an amazing listener as he sits down without losing his natural smile through Mark’s speech about the differences in representation of the goddess Athena. Meanwhile, Mark also tells him about the thesis he's writing, or well, planning to write during the summer and about how he's planning to become a gallerist in great museums. And weirdly enough, Johnny seems actually interested in what Mark's saying — unlike Donghyuck who straight up rolls his eyes and Jeno who politely listens but doesn't really care — and asks him questions, a lot of questions. So much in fact, that at some point Mark is embarrassed by the amount of time he's been talking and stops himself in his tracks to ask Johnny about his job.

Johnny's been traveling a lot and around all the world, has worked for clients all richer than the other and never settled for too long in a city. He describes to Mark the most exuberant orders he got and peppers in so many anecdotes he gathered through the years, which added together makes Mark laugh so much he tears up a little.

His ribs hurt when Maria serves them fresh fruits, oranges, raspberries and strawberries sprinkled with lemon juice. They both peck in the same bowl, telling each other dumb jokes.

When Johnny leaves because he has to get back to work, the other employees having finished with their lunch break, Mark's left alone on the terrace with his cheeks hurting from smiling and a fuzzy feeling warming his chest. They're definitely not going to eat together every day, but damn, Mark didn't know he'd love having a bit of company for the summer.

///

Johnny finds the village next to the Lee's castle absolutely enchanting. Inspiration came back flowing to him as soon as he stepped foot into the region and the village is the epitome of everything he finds beautiful here. It's the crown of the mountains of Italy, surrounded by green trees and radiating a calm but welcoming energy. The houses are from various sizes but they all look the same with their beige walls and their roofs of slate. He came here with a cab but thinks about loaning a bike if there's some shop of the sort. Otherwise, he'll ask Mark if he has one he can use.

For his day off, he explores the village, it's still the middle of the morning so it's not too hot and most of the people are awake, granting the streets of activities Johnny didn't expect so lively. He finds a bakery, a library and a bookshop, two or three restaurants, a tobacco store that also serves as a bar but there's not a trace of a bike shop. After he's bought an apple at the local tiny market, he decides that he should take a proper bite at one of the restaurants he noticed.

"Hi!" He greets when he comes into the establishment. The waiter opens his mouth, closes it and runs away into the kitchen.

Dumbfounded, Johnny stays in his place, the time stretching in his awkwardness.

"Hello!" A man suddenly appears, he's wearing an apron and there's what Johnny presumes to be sauce on his cheek. His eyes are wide and kind, just like his smile when he offers his hand for Johnny to shake. "I'm Taeyong, welcome at La Scala! Sorry about Marco, he doesn't speak a word of English and gets panicked very easily."

"Hello, I'm Johnny.. and it’s fine, no problem. I'd like to eat if that's possible."

"Sure! Follow me in, please." Taeyong leads him to what reveals to be a very cozy and well-decorated restaurant. "I'm in charge of cooking normally with Anna but today's really calm so I guess I'll be your waiter! Please, have a seat." Taeyong takes the chair out for Johnny and this one takes place. "I'm bringing the menu in a second."

Johnny doesn’t have the time to wait long that Taeyong is already back, sliding the menu on the table.

“So are you on vacations here?” Taeyong asks.

“Actually no, I’m here on a job.”

“Oh really?” Taeyong frowns his eyebrows. “There’s not really much to do here…”

“I’m working for Mrs. Lee, she owns the —”

“Oh, Margaret!” Taeyong exclaims, calling Johnny’s boss by her name. “So are you the gardener or the carpenter?”

“The carpenter?”

“Last time we chatted she told me she wanted to hire someone to fix some stuff on the roof.” Taeyong explains to a visibly confused Johnny.

“Oh, well then no, I’m the gardener I guess.”

“Fantastic! So you’ve met Mark right?”

Oh yes, he did.

“Yes! Mrs.Lee’s son.”

“Ugh I love that boy. By the way, can you tell him to get his ass out of his books and swing by here? There’s this new dessert I want him to try. Ah and! By the library too, Ten got some new delivery.”

“Sure! I’ll tell him.”

Then, Taeyong takes his order and swings into the kitchen. They chat a little more as Taeyong brings him the dishes, he tells him how he’s always lived in these mountains and how pretty the environment is and even gives him the advice to check this place with a lake, explaining to him in detail how to get into the secret location. Johnny finds him very nice to be around, light and kind and obviously very generous.

He wonders what Taeyong's relationship with Mark is, they don’t seem to be close, to his relief, but definitely friends enough that Taeyong would want his opinion on his cooking. Maybe Mark has a great palate. Maybe he knows how to describe the flavours he expertly tasted on his tongue. 

Johnny stops himself in his tracks. Thinking about Mark’s lips isn’t unusual — apparently, Johnny’s mind liked to drift off there these days — but wondering how his palate is shaped _is_. He shakes his head, as if it’s going to get the thoughts out of his head. 

As he leaves after having paid his meal — and heavily complimented Taeyong on his cuisine because damn, was it good — Taeyong recommends him one more time to tell Mark he’s said hi and to come by. Johnny grins as he promises to do so. In fact, he has slightly different plans. 

///

The morning after Johnny’s day off, Mark is in an enchanted mood. Not that he missed the gardener — absolutely no — but it’s less fun to pretend to read when you’re staring in fact at a handsome man, when said handsome man is nowhere to be seen. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s particularly hot today, but there’s something different in the air today. As Johnny greets him with a cheerful “Good morning!” as he bypasses him, he looks more confident than usual, even a bit cocky if Mark pushes it. To be honest, it scares him. A normal Johnny is enough to render Mark to a panicked blushing mess, so a cocky one must be… devastating. 

But maybe Mark read things wrong, because the beginning of the morning is spent absolutely normally. Johnny talks to the employees, gives some orders and paces thourgh the garden to go God knows where. Mark looks at and listens to him more than he reads his book and he spends an overall delightful time.

Until one thing changes. Johnny’s left for about ten minute when he comes back in Mark’s vision. His usual white shirt and fancy pants had been replaced to a more casual outfit, one resembling what the gardeners working currently are wearing: baggy pants, and one, oh so tiny, oh so revealing, white tank top.

“Having a good morning, Mark?” Johnny asks, walking by him.

His jaws drop.

Johnny is… built. Mark’s eyes follow despite him the lines of Johnny’s arms, caressing the defined muscles as he thinks how he could lift Mark in the air as if he didn’t weigh anything. And, oh God, he has a tattoo. Delicate sunflowers right above the crook of his forearm, where Mark is sure he’d send Johnny giggling if he brushed his fingers there. His guts tighten at the thought of touching Johnny and he definitely shouldn’t feel so damn hot right now. He is so, _so_ thankful Johnny is wearing that tank top covering his chest. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he could see more than what is already so fucking damn _tight_ on his skin. 

“Fantastic,” he croaks out painfully.

“Great.” Johnny smiles, leaving carelessly, just like he didn’t send Mark into the strongest gay panic. 

This. This is not good for Mark.

Johnny squats to do whatever the fuck he is doing with dirt and flowers, Mark can’t pay attention when the sun glows like that on his arms. Every second that passes is a torture and he swears he’s trying to read that goddamn book but his eyes keep flying back to Johnny’s strong body every two words. It’s just so very hot around him and his hands are sweating on the pages and his mouth is running dry and tension is building up in his guts. Johnny runs his hand through his hair, affording an enigmatic look to Mark.

Mark’s fingers clench on the book.

This little game goes on for what feels like hours but is simply around fifteen minutes, Johnny minding his own business and Mark pretending to have grown calmer — lying to himself — and losing his mind. 

It could have stopped there. But it doesn’t.

When Johnny stands up, Mark’s relieved. Johnny is going to leave and his torture is going to end, he’ll no longer be subjected to the sinful sight of Johnny in a tank top. What else could Mark have done anyway to avoid it? Run away? He’d just look horribly suspicious — more than he already does — and Johnny would have teased him relentlessly for his crush on him, or, worse, he’d feel embarrassed and uncomfortable around Mark. 

Except Johnny doesn’t leave. No, instead, he stretches lightly before cracking his neck, exposing the skin of his throat and collarbone. Mark gulps hardly. 

Okay. That wasn’t that bad. 

Johnny lifts his tank top, smoothly removing the thin white fabric from him, showing his bare chest shamelessly. His skin glistens with the sunshine and a very thin layer of sweat, his muscles roll with movement, looking soft and tender but so powerful, and before he knows it, Mark has trailed off to look at his nipples.

What is happening doesn’t register instantly.

Johnny’s bare chest. Mark is watching Johnny. Johnny, being bare chested. 

Fuck. Johnny’s half-naked in his garden and Mark’s book has fallen from his hands and he can not stop staring, his mouth ajar. His cheeks are burning, in fact, the entirety of his body is burning as he imagines how it’d feel to put his hands on the muscles, to trace the lines of his torso with the tip of his index and to grip on his shoulders, digging his nails into his skin. 

Johnny smirks at him, fully knowing what effect he has on Mark and… 

Oh.

_Oh._

Mark realizes with horror he’s hard under his pants.

Screw keeping his composure, not being too obvious and not running away, he jolts up from his chair, almost knocking it out to fall on the floor, and strides very frantically to reach the castle, not having the courage to look over his shoulder to see if Johnny’s noticed him leaving, because, of fucking course, he’s watching him.

The freshness of the castle when he steps in barely relieves a smidge of the tension he’s feeling. He locks himself up in the bathroom, then, he realizes. What the fuck is he doing? Is he gonna... ? No. He can’t do that. He absolutely cannot jack off in his bathroom, in the middle of the day, thinking about the gardener of his goddamn mother. He is _not_ going to touch himself imagining Johnny’s body on top of him, wrapping him up with his warmth. A moan escapes his mouth at the sole thought. The idiot he is managed to get even more aroused.

He should get external help, because his mind is supplying images of Johnny in all sorts of different positions instead of a solution to get Mark out of troubles. So, naturally, he takes his phone from his pocket, trying to ignore the discomfort of his jeans being painfully tight. 

The phone rings once, twice, before Donghyuck answers, popping what Mark hopes to be a lollipop out of his mouth.

“Hi Mark, how you’re doing?”

“Uh, hi. Am I interrupting anything?” He asks, ready to hang up at any second.

“What? No, not at all. I’m just playing video games.” His best friend answers evenly, and now that Mark pays attention he hears in the background the familiar sounds of Donghyuck’s favorite video game. “So what’s going on dude?”

“Uh, well... Uh. I’m having sort of an… issue.”

“You good?”

“Yes! Well, no. But yes, I’m not hurt or harmed.”

“Good. So what’s up?”

“Umh… well, so you know how my mom hired a gardener because she wanna spice up the outskirts of the castle.”

“I didn’t but sure, okay.”

“And, well, to be quick, the gardener is… Hot. Hot. The gardener is hot.”

“Oooooouh,” Donghyuck coos. “Like how hot?”

Mark looks down on his pants. “Very hot.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

“He’s _very_ hot.” Mark insists and Donghyuck laughs at his distress. “And he just removed his fucking _tank top_ and walked bare chest in the garden!”

“Oh, damn.”

“I know right?! Why would he do that? I mean I get that it’s especially hot today, but _still_ , he could have mercy on me!”

Donghyuck sighs but Mark hears his smile. “Dude, he’s flirting.”

Mark chokes on his saliva. “What?! No, he’s not! Oh my god! What?! He’s not flirting, like what the fuck?!” Mark stumbles on his words and gets lost into confusion and arousal before he blurts out, “Anyway! I got a fucking boner!”

Donghyuck breaks into ugly laughs. “No fucking way!”

“Don’t laugh dude, I’m in pain!”

“Gross, TMI.”

“Stop mocking me! Help me! What do I do?”

It takes a few seconds for Donghyuck to collect himself and stop chuckling before he speaks up. “What do you want me to say? Do you really need me to explain to you how to jack off?”

Mark only has the time to grunt before he hears Jeno’s voice coming closer to Donghyuck — probably pulling him into a back hug like Mark saw him do so many times, casually third-wheeling — and asking, “What’s going?”

“Oh nothing,” Donghyuck answers. “Mark is just going to bang his mom’s gardener.”

“I’m not!” he protests, but they ignore him, softly laughing instead.

“Neat.” Jeno comments and the microphone is muffled, signaling Donghyuck’s probably snuggled closer to him. 

“Anyway, bye Mark! I’m sure you have more important, and funnier, matters to attend to right now.”

“What?! Hyuck, no!”

But Donghyuck hangs up as Jeno enthusiastically says goodbye. 

Fuck. This phone call was not helpful in any way, he still doesn’t know what to do with himself and his boner didn’t magically disappear. He’s not gonna…? Is he? Technically, it wouldn’t harm anyone. Right?

He can’t believe himself but this situation is getting very painful and It’s not like the thoughts of Johnny pressed against him have left his mind at all, and are going to leave him at all. 

Not thirty seconds later after the call has ended, Donghyuck sends him screenshots of what looks to be a sketchy parody of WikiHow, the article subtly named ‘ _How to Jack Off In 6 Simple Steps_ ’. Mark can perfectly imagine his smug ass chukling. 

He turns the shower on and unbuttons his pants, thinking that he _really_ doesn’t look forward to dinner this evening.

///

Mark is very lucky, because the day after the great garden debacle, Johnny has to leave for a week to specifically select in person the breeds of the plant he’s going to implant, after having got some samples shipped here so Mark’s mom could make her choice. Mark didn’t understand shit about their talks and was way too embarrassed to look up from his plate anyway. He found himself very brave for having dinner with them at all, he could have just asked Maria to eat in his own bedroom at least for tonight.

“Do you need me to drive you to the airport,” His mother had asked Johnny.

“No, thank you very much, I’ll call a cab.”

“Sure. You must be exhausted from all these travels, when times get busy for me I can only sleep in the plane and after work I can’t hold a conversation. It’s like my brain is dead!” She joked.

“True, I love my job but I’ve been working non-stop for the past five years and It’s like my body is screaming at me to rest.” Johnny agreed, sipping on his wine. “I think after your garden Mrs. Lee I’m going to take a small break from international business and focus on smaller but more local ones where I live.”

“That’s nice too! Where do you live again Mr. Seo?”

“San Francisco.”

“Oh that’s funny! Mark studies there!”

Yeah. Funny. So funny in fact, that Mark stared harder at the broccoli and prayed that he doesn’t get any redder.

“That’s funny, indeed.” Johnny mused. “Maybe we’ll meet each other some day.”

It’s actually surprising to find that Johnny is as smug as usual, as in, he didn’t get cockier knowing he got Mark running away because he was so horny. Mark expected that to happen — no, he feared that to happen. but Johnny showed himself as charming and polite as always and Mark could pretend like he didn’t exist peacefully.

During the week he’s away, Mark thinks, a lot, and a specific part of his conversation with Donghyuck plays in his mind relentlessly, ‘Dude, he’s flirting’. Was Johnny flirting?

At first, Mark’s reaction was denial. Because why the fuck would such a handsome and accomplished man would be flirting with a kinda nerdy dude just trying to get his masters? It takes him a long time and a conversation with Donghyuck through text where his best friend almost sends him a ‘Why Johnny Seo would hit on such an incredible person as Mark fucking Lee’ powerpoint, but he stops at texts and a very fierce vocal message, for Mark to realize that maybe he’s not unlovable and even maybe a little bit cute. _Attractive_ , Donghyuck corrects. _Cute_ , Mark insists.

And why the fuck would a guy would dress up with a damn tank top when it’s not even his job to work with the plants directly. The answer is obvious: to show off, and considering the other gardeners were far away and not even paying attention, the answer to whom Johnny was showing off before, is also pretty obvious. And not only did he wear a tank top, but more importantly: he removed it. He was showing off big time.

So maybe Johnny is flirting, Mark finally admits to himself. Johnny is having fun driving Mark crazy, and he finds very infuriating that first he’s very much winning at it, and second that Mark can’t get back at him. Donghyuck laughs a lot when Mark texts him that. “then you know the drill,” he sends right after, “pull out the infamous mark’s coochie eyes”. Mark grumbles, but yeah, it’s exactly what he's planning to do. 

///

“Hi Johnny!” Mark greets as soon as he steps out on the terrace. The man is having breakfast under the shadow casted by the parasol.

“Hello Mark,” Johnny looks up from his phone to give Mark a wide but brief smile, and as much as Mark pretends to be calm and confident, his heart clenches at such a perfect sight so early in the morning. “Did you sleep well?”

“Perfectly.” He takes a chair and sits at the table, serving some bread and butter. He almost coos when he sees that Johnny pours him a glass of orange juice. So he did notice what Mark is usually having in the morning enough times to be confident he’s not making a mistake without having to ask. “You?”

“Like a baby.”

“So, today’s your free day, right?” 

“Absolutely.”

“So I was thinking — I’m sure you wanna get away from your job though — that maybe I could show you around a little? If you’d like it, we have some electric bikes and there’s a lot of gorgeous natural places that nobody but the locals know about.” 

Mark has no idea how the hell did he manage not to stutter and maintain eye contact, especially when Johnny is looking at him like _that_ , but he did and now Johnny’s face is lit by a smile.

“I’d love to. I was wondering if I could ask you, but I figured you’d probably want to be left in peace.”

“I’m glad I asked then, can we go after breakfast? Maria can cook us some food to eat on the go for lunch if that sounds good to you.”

“Sounds amazing, Mark.”

Mark smiles, but God, can he stop fucking blushing?

///

If usually Johnny is dangerous, outside of work he is a menace. He’s more relaxed and makes a lot more jokes, bringing Mark on the verge of tears several times, he’s goofier and to Mark’s great disgrace, a lot more tactile. His gestures are never invasive, a small hit on the shoulder, a brush on the forearm or even a tap on the lap to get his attention, but enough to send Mark whimpering and panicking internally. It’s a relief when they get on the bikes because Mark can get a semblance of his composure back.

Leisurely riding his bike side by side with Mark, Johnny is even more handsome, if that’s even possible. He doesn’t look like a different person, but he's definitely changed. Less hot than he is in a suit, but prettier, more natural. He feels like Johnny and not Mr. Seo.

They chat easily, Mark tells him about some childhood memories he has here with Donghyuck, and Jeno later, and digresses a bit about them, his literal couple of best friends. Johnny smiles fondly and Mark tries not to let it go over his head. Johnny reciprocates with stories about Yuta, Jaehyun, Taeil and Doyoung. They all met in college and never really let go of each other, having a rocky history of dating and break-ups and parties. A lot of parties, Johnny says.

“Did you date any of them at some point?” Mark laughs

Johnny winces, smiling. “Actively date? No.” He answers, but his tone seems to leave something open.

“Oh, so it wasn’t as serious as dates…” Mark says, cheeky. He turns his head to see that Johnny is looking at him, a glint in the eyes. They share a long conniving look, before turning away, certainty floating in their hearts.

Mark shows Johnny a lot of beautiful spots, a field of wildflowers, a cliff from where the mountains look breathtakingly majestuous and they stop at a farm where cows lazily look at their attempts to pet their fur, until they finally reach Mark’s favorite place in the area: a small lake, veiled from all sides by the trees, not indicated by any signs or pathways. The blue water, shining with the scattered rays of sunshine passing through the leaves, is so clear they can observe the tiny fishes swimming in a school and the roots of the water lilies digging in the ground. 

“Wow,” Johnny breathes out, his eyes wandering on the landscape lit by wonder. “This place is… beautiful.”

Mark doesn’t look at the scenery, detailing instead Johnny. He’s not wearing a white shirt but a navy blue t-shirt, exposing both his forearms and his tattoo, but closing in a cowl collar around the base of his throat, hiding his collarbones, and the suit pants had been replaced by a simple pair of jeans. Nothing extraordinary, really, it’s casual clothes, but on this man, tall, handsome, with dark mysterious and alluring eyes and such perfectly designed lips, it takes away Mark’s breath. He’s out of this world.

“Yeah. Very.” He answers before clearing his throat.”Hungry?” He asks though he’s already going to take the basket resting on the pannier rack of his bike. 

“Starving.”

They didn’t realize, but throughout all of their conversations and Mark’s detours, their ride had taken hours and it was already way past noon. Cursing his stomach grumbling, Mark opens the baskets to take out the blanket and spread it on the tender grass. Without him saying anything, Johnny moved to catch the extremities in the air and help him settle the fabric nicely. They exchange a smile and then Johnny asks what they’re going to have. Mark answers with what Maria told him, Johnny makes a dumb joke to which Mark laughs his ass off, like they’ve been doing this routine for years. They sit side by side and eat their sandwiches together.

When they’re done, Johnny gets up to grab the basket on his own bike, he lays on the blanket before opening the basket, showing to Mark the oranges resting in it with flowers of orange blossom here and there in the middle of the fruits. The scent is as strong as it’s delightful. Johnny explains they’re the fruits of the trees Mrs. Lee had selected and that he wanted Mark too to taste them.

Mark bites into a quarter of a mandarine Johnny’s peeled for him. The juice pours into his mouth first, fresh, sweet and sour, before his teeth sink into the tender flesh, exploding the rest of the taste on his tongue. It resembles orange’s scent but it’s sweeter, and there’s a tint of basilic lingering in his mouth. He chews and swallows, the bitterness coming only after. He blushes furiously when he realises Johnny’s staring at his lips before he gathers himself and bites into another quarter he’s handed, looking back at him fiercely. Johnny bites his lips but doesn’t shy away, only backing off to stretch. Mark eats the rest of the mandarine, not keeping his eyes off Johnny, knowing he doesn’t need to tell how good it feels. 

“... And then it slid. And then hot water started falling. And then coffee.” Johnny giggles. They’d started talking again, Johnny having eaten himself some citrus, but the atmosphere had shifted. A tension had grown around them.

Mark takes a long deep breath, his eyes locked on Johnny, and he roars with laughter. His ribs shaken by cackles, he lets him fall onto the blanket to lay next to the other, who’s lifting his chest with his elbow. From below, Mark can see how proud of himself Johnny seems, grinning at his own joke. Mark masks his face, embarrassed by the poor angle and how intensely Johnny is watching his reaction.

“Oh! Black beans!” Mark realizes, sending him to laugh even more. “Like coffee beans!”

“Yeah!”

Mark covers his mouth again, closing his eyes, but he’s stopped in his gesture. Johnny had gently grabbed his wrist.

“What? His laugh dies down as his skin burns and a feeling of anticipation seizes him.

“Don’t hide your face.” Johnny said in a low voice.

His stomach makes a flip.“Why?” 

There isn’t any strength in Johnny’s hold, so Mark softly escapes his hand from it to lower his finger until they brush against Johnny’s skin, just above the crook of his arm. He’d been right, tracing the lines of the sunflowers has a strong effect on Johnny. Mark looks how the tip of his index draws the petals as goosebumps rise on Johnny’s skin. He feels the muscles tensing under his ever-so-light touch and smirks slightly, his eyes still low. It’s time to ‘pull out the infamous Mark’s coochie eyes’.

With all the delight in the world, as he physically can feel Johnny’s gaze on him, he lifts his head slowly, so when his eyes meet Johnny’s ones, they’re long awaited.

And when they do, Johnny’s breath hitches. 

“Why?” He repeats in a murmur, painfully aware of the short, yet cruel, distance between their lying bodies.

Johnny doesn’t say anything. He seems paralyzed, before he finally moves. First, it’s his shoulders that inclines toward Mark, then, it’s his chest leaning down, before his face finally comes nearer. Mark follows his movement, lifting his body to get closer and closer. Johnny’s hand cups his cheek. Mark sighs from the warmth. 

A last second of wavering, when they dive into each other’s gaze, when they feel each other’s breath caressing their ajar lips, when the sparks burst the most intensely, before their eyelids smoothly close — and before their lips meet.

Johnny tastes sweet and sour, like the orange he’d eat. His lips, just like Mark had imagined, are as beautiful to look at as they are good to kiss. Johnny’s tongue slides into his mouth the most naturally in the world and takes all of Mark with him. They break their kisses to sigh, barely breathing to plunge again into each other’s quickly.

If their embrace is gentle at first, enraptured in the sensations Johnny gives him, Mark doesn’t realize he’s moaning into his mouth and curling against him. It grows hotter, when he forgets about being nervous and glides his hand to take Johnny’s by his hips, under his t-shirt. He just wants him more. He feels himself getting hard but fuck, Johnny feels so good he doesn’t care. 

Johnny apparently gets tired of their semblance of balance, and straight out takes Mark under his thigh to lay him on his back. A whimper breaks from his lips as he’s being manhandled. Now that’s a kink he didn’t know he had. Johnny places himself on top of him, his elbows resting on each side of his face. Mark laughs at the him from a week ago. Oh to be under Johnny’s strong body. 

Johnny’s eyes caress Mark’s and he feels vulnerable now that he doesn’t have Johnny’s lips on his. He tries to chase them but Johnny withdraws his head, grinning.

“You’re so pretty,” he admires.

“Stop!” Mark whines.

“Why would I? You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Johnny teases but there’s no trace of malice in his tone. Mark rolls his eyes but smiles, frustrated but thrilled to be the object of his desire. He lowers his body, and now Mark’s sure he can feel his erection against his thigh. “Need a hand with that?” He whispers into his ear, sending shivers all down his spine. He gulps hardly and nods. He does. 

///

They come back to the castle, grinning with swollen lips and branches of orange blossom flowers tug behind their ears.

///

Dating a gardener has its perks. For example, when Mark wakes up from his habitual afternoon nap, he finds on the terrace’s table next to a snack, a huge bouquet waiting for him with handwritten notes inviting him on a date this evening, hidden between the white delicate petals and all sorts of flowers and plants he can’t name but find beautiful nevertheless. He giggles. Guess Johnny is a romantic.

Enthralled by the bouquet, he doesn’t keep his eyes off it as he eats the snack, not fighting the dumb grin plastered on his face. He’s going to put it in his room, where his mother can’t see. It’s not like he’s ashamed, or that they’re doing anything wrong or forbidden, but his mother can be so damn awkward, he’d rather not die of embarrassment when she suggestively raises her eyebrows. Plus, Johnny has shown himself very… audacious during dinners, without Mark’s mother noticing. He takes great pleasure messing with Mark’s composure like nothing is happening, playing footsie with him, his foot caressing Mark’s calf to slide all the way up his thighs — damn those depraving long legs — while he chatted with Mrs. Lee, his face remained unfazed and his attitude as laidback as ever. 

It was unfair, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

He wonders what kind of excuse they’re going to use to go on their date without making it look like a date. Maybe Mark could pretend there’s a local event in the village. Maybe Johnny already thought of something. He doesn’t really care, floating on a little bubble of happiness. 

///

Johnny, honest to god, looks show-stopping. Beautiful and elegant like a movie star on a runaway, he opens the door of the cab for Mark and holds his hand during the ride. He tells him it’s nothing very big but he’s happy to take him out and Mark reassures him that there's nothing to do anyway in the area.

“What’s in the bag?” Mark asks, noticing the brown leather knapsack.

“Surprise, surprise. It’s nothing you have to worry about right now.” Johnny muses, enigmatic. “What’s in yours?” He points at Mark’s smaller one. 

“Phone, wallet, stuff like that.” 

He’s not lying , but, of course, he doesn’t mention the lube and condoms.

“Hi Mark!” Taeying grins when they get in La Scala, he’s fussing around the table but still notices the young man, before surprise arches his features. “Mr. Seo! Good to see you back! I’ll take care of you two in a minute.”

The restaurant is busier than the first time Johnny ate there he says. Indeed, both Taeyong and his other waiter are serving and they can distinguish his voice giving orders in the kitchens. He sounds firmer without departing from his kindness. 

“Taeyong’s a sweetheart,” Mark says when they sit at the table they got designated. It’s removed from the agitated center of the room, in a more intimate setting. 

“He really seems to be. He told me to tell you he wanted you to come by, he got some new deserts he wants you to try apparently.”

“Sweet!” Mark smiles, he’s been talking to him about adding a watermelon-based desert on the menu for a long time. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wanted to bring you here myself.”

Embarrassed but grinning, Mark turns his head, avoiding Johnny’s eyes. “Oh, shush.”

“He also told me that Ten got some new books at the bookstore. Maybe you’d like to go tomorrow with me? It’s my day off.”

“Yes! Amazing! I’d love to.”

“You’re a bit of a celebrity here.” Johnny teases.

“Heh, I’m more of a bit of a local. I’m known as the rich kid who comes here during summer.” Mark clears his throat, looking around the restaurant, knowing exactly where what he’s searching is going to be. And here it is, sat on one of the stools of the bar. “Do you mind if we actually go chat with him when we’re done eating?” He asks, gesturing to Johnny where Ten is.

Johnny looks over the bar. “Of course not. But what tells you he’s still going to be here when we’ll leave? He’s like halfway through his drink and he’s not on a table to eat anything.”

Mark chuckles, slightly mocking. Johnny’s features inexplicably and suddenly soften. “Oh believe me, he’ll be there. He always waits until Taeyong closes, he loves to pester him while he works. Watching them banter is half of the fun here.”

As if they’d heard Mark talk — when he’s at the opposite end of the restaurant — Taeyong comes out of the kitchen with three plates and Ten pretends to trip him. Taeyong stops in his tracks to glare at him.

“Not. Funny.” His articulation is so clear that Mark could make out the words. He’s scolding Ten, but the corners of his lips are tellingly up. 

Ten says something between his giggle, shaking his glass as if he’s a rude client asking for a refill. 

“Fuck off,” Taeyong complains again very clearly and rolls his eyes as he leaves. Though, when he comes back from the kitchen a second time after serving Johnny’s and Mark’s dishes, he gives Ten a whole another glass of whatever he’s having and Mark notices there’s three chocolates on the saucer while for the other patrons it’s only one. 

“So are they like, a thing?” Johnny interrogates

“They’re married! Check for Taeyong’s ring, it’s really pretty! For the longest time I thought Ten was just hopelessly flirting with Taeyong but they’ve been together for like, ten years and got married as soon as Italy allowed it so like… Yeah around four or five years ago. You should ask him the story, he’s gonna love telling you how he once went on vacation in the village ‘fell in love with the landscapes and stayed for the waiter’, it’s really sweet, even after having heard it for a million times. Yeah Taeyong was just the waiter at that time.” Mark, making the quotation marks with his fingers. 

“Do you want some more wine?” Johnny offers, pouring himself another glass.

“Actually no. Can I have a lemonade instead?”

“Ah fuck, I was hoping to get you drunk.” He jokes.

“Why?” Mark laughs. “To fuck me? You don’t need to get me drunk for that, just say the word.”

This time, it’s Johnny that chokes on his food. He’s adorably red and the power Mark has over him makes him feel dizzy. He looks forward to the rest of the summer, maybe even after. Johnny did mention he’d like to settle back in San Francisco, didn’t he? 

After that, and the lemonade, they get the dessert. They share Taeyong’s special — that he insists is on the house — a chocolate fondant accompanied by its watermelon and mint coulis. It’s delicious and Mark can’t wait to give his excited approval to Taeyong. As he raves, Johnny suddenly leans in and whips Mark’s chin with his thumb.

“Hold on… you got some chocolate here.” He rubs his finger but seemingly the chocolate stays on, since Johnny is now lifting his chest to take a closer look. Johnny’s face is very near to his by now, and his eyes are focused on his mouth. Mark thinks he’s exaggerating and that it’d be an amazing moment to kiss Johnny, and that maybe he’s going to do it, and yes he’s going to do it he just needs a…

Johnny’s already pressed his lips on Mark’s, in a small yet tender gesture. Surprised at first, Mark then closes his eyes and lets Johnny kiss him in the restaurant, weirdly not bothered in the slightest. 

When they break off in a smile and a sigh, Mark asks, “I didn’t have any chocolate, right?”

Johnny smiles proudly. “Well now you do.”

“Fuck you,” Mark sighs and takes his apron to clean himself.

“I could help you clean yourself.” 

“No, you’re just going to make a mess out of me.”

“And that’d be bad because…?”

Mark laughs. “Because I want to finish my fondant.”

“ _Our_ fondant.”

“Our fondant.” He admits warmly.

When they pay, it’s actually Ten that takes their payment, bouncing from his tool to excitedly chat with Mark, and check his date up down. Mark knows he’s never going to hear the end of it and he can already hear Ten cooing about how hot a piece of ass, obviously not hotter than his husband’s piece of ass, he got himself.

“Since when do you have access to the checkout?” Mark jibes at him. “Shouldn’t Taeyong know you’re going to steal all of his cash?”

“What am I going to steal, Markie? He already hit the jackpot when he married me.”

“Stop saying bullshit and get the money,” Taeyong suddenly swooshes in the kitchen, without forgetting to smack a smooch on Ten’s cheek. 

A smile automatically lights Ten and he gives the machine for Johnny to pay who got his card ready.

“You know I can pay for my half.” Mark suggests. He’s been trying to pay for their dinner since they finished their fondant, but Johnny’s shown himself unyielding. 

“And technically you can even pay for both of us, but so do I and _I_ am the one who’s bringing you on a date.”

Mark pouts but doesn’t push. Not five seconds later, Ten is telling Johnny the story of how he met Taeyong as a tourist, came back here every chance he could get and finally got a job as a librarian in the village and moved definitely. It’s a cute story and they’ve been for an insanely long time, so Mark gets why he likes to tell it so much. Plus, he’s very entertaining, getting Johnny to laugh on several occasions. Mark loves Johnny’s deep and warm laugh, so he’s thankful the old Ten rambles his love for Taeyong so much. 

Ten also tells Mark about those new books, particularly about the first volume of what will most likely become a “ground-breaking and indecently famous” series. To get it short, which is ironic considering the impressive length of the book, it’s about their modern world meddling supernatural creatures and humans, but more specifically what looks like a team of spy agents getting a mission a tad more complicated than what it first appeared. It sounds amazing, and Mark can’t wait to pick it up tomorrow morning. 

They get out of the restaurant. The night is already dark and the air already cold. Mark shivers, only wearing a simple t-shirt. Johnny notices it, so he takes off his jacket and snuggles it on Mark’s shoulders. The warmth basks him in comfort, but less than the scent of Johnny’s expensive cologne does. 

“Thank you,” he says in a small voice as they walk side by side. “For the jacket. And the dinner.” 

“It’s my pleasure.” Johnny answers and Mark gets closer to him. He grips his sleeve, stopping them in their walk, and pulls him down softly to give him a peck on the check. Johnny grins, whispering a soft ‘worth it’, and starts walking, taking Mark by his waist under his jacket.

“Now Mark, how about some stargazing?”

///

The little lake isn’t that far from the village, and they can get there by simply walking. It looks even more magical in the night, the stars composing a marvelous painting above them as the moonlight creates tender shadows around the trees and makes the calm water sparkle. 

Johnny opens the bag and it reveals the blanket they’ve used last time and some snacks. He lays it on the grass before he walks up to Mark and kisses him. Mark didn’t expect it, but he welcomes the touch gladly and runs his hand through Johnny’s hair eagerly. 

They part and open their eyes, gazing at each other’s for what seems to be an eternity and only a second at the same time. 

“Would you enjoy a midnight bath with me?” Johnny offers in a huff. 

He nods. Something blooms in Mark’s chest, gentle and beautiful. He finds himself smiling without realizing.

The water is freezing, but it’s good, because Mark’s body is scorching. Johnny in the water looks… great. The moonlight reflects on his chest where the drops of water are pearls. His stomach clenches, both from the amazement and the nervousness, he feels vulnerable, distant, and so, so, so naked. He is naked, so he has a reason, but the way Johnny looks at him without laying a hand on him drives crazy.

He clears his throat before inclining his head toward the sky.

“Aren’t the stars so pretty?”

“They are.” Johnny confirms in the softest voice Mark’s ever heard. When he looks at Johnny again, he realizes he hasn’t moved his eyes from him. 

He decides that he’s going to take the matter in his own hands before he drowns himself out of embarrassment. Locking his gaze to Johnny, he takes a few breaststrokes, joining him. Johnny waits for him, expectant, and lets him lay his hands on his shoulders, moving his arms to stay afloat. They stay like this for a while, their legs swinging slowly and sometimes brushing against each other. 

After that, everything happens in a blur. They kiss, kiss, and kiss, losing themselves, and even let themselves fall underwater before going back up to breath… before kissing again. The way their skins feel surrounded by water when they touch is hypnotizing and both can’t get enough, like electricity running everywhere on them, from their guts to their fingertips, connecting them with tension. The moment when they decide to get back on the blanket is impossible to pinpoint, but Mark recalls Johnny laughs when his hand fumble in his bag to get the lube and condoms.

“You only go out with me because of my body.” He jokes.

“And your money.” Mark adds before he seals their lips again, his hand wandering between Johnny’s thighs. 

It’s all so confusing, in a haze, but it feels like a storm runs through their bodies, forcing them to collide in pleasure.

The moon shining its light on Mark’s skin, he comes in a whimpering mess of moans, legs shaking, and hips stuttering, when Johnny calls him ‘Sir.’

///

Dating a gardener — “Landscaper” Johnny always corrects — has its perks. For example, Mark’s apartment in San Francisco is now always full with luxuriant plants. Of course, he gets chided because he can’t take care of them and they always die, but Johnny brings new ones every time he stays here, so it’s fine.

They’re both always busy, but after a few months of dating, they find a comfortable rhythm to settle in, in the middle of bouquets, oranges, books Mark annotates for Johnny, and I love you’s whispered in the crook of the neck.

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! 
> 
> i'd love to hear your feedbacks if you have any, i live on kudos and comments :]
> 
> alex, i hope you enjoyed this and that you're proud of it because it's in your legacy now. i'm kinda (very) anxious to hear what your thoughts on this but i've tried to compile your fav ingredients, humour, fluff and sexy times. i love you very very much and i'm very happy to be by your side as you turn 23. 
> 
> MWAH
> 
> you can find me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/kitty_track) and on curiouscat [here](https://curiouscat.me/kitty_track)!


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